


We just grazed the car

by MayLovelies



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, i moved accounts, more to come - Freeform, repost of the original
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 16:13:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7691158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayLovelies/pseuds/MayLovelies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even before work ended, Bard knew this was going to be an awful day. And much to his dismay, his suspicions are confirmed when Baine admits to being a part of a hit and run. Fortunately, from what Bard gathers, no one is hurt, but that doesn’t change the fact that there is an angry, well dress (obviously wealthy) man standing outside of his door demanding to see Baine to have him arrested. And oh, this man also happens to be the biggest rival of Bard’s company (The Oakenshield Corps.), Thranduil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We just grazed the car

**Author's Note:**

> So if you are familiar with this, you may have seen it on another account. That is my account, I am just switching; I'm abandoning my old account, and most of the stories but I wanna continue this one! So please support the story on this account and not the other one, as I will be deleting the story on my other account soon!.
> 
> For those of you who are new to this story, enjoy!

When Bard had looked at his wrist watch once more, he was quite shocked to realize how much time had gone by.

Nearly an hour had passed since he’d finished his last company report, meaning that he had less than thirty minutes before he headed home. Quite surprised and pleased with himself for managing to get not just one, but multiple reports done that day, he began to pack early. Though he wasn’t really in a rush, he needed to get home in order to start dinner up that night for when Baine returned home. He’d be home later, Bard remembered, as he was taking a small detour with some of his friends, but he wouldn’t be incredibly late. So perhaps Bard could stop by the store before rushing home, or even get himself something to eat.

Sighing, the near middle aged man took a deep breath and rested back in his chair.

“Twenty reports…” He mumbled to himself. That had to be a new record, though he could have been faster. But doting down on his work wouldn’t help him now—he’d eventually just learn to cover more ground in lesser time. Though, he was quite shocked that Alfred, his supervisor’s assistant, hadn’t come and dropped nearly twenty more papers on his desk. It was about the timing, perhaps he was sick. Regardless, Bard needed to be thankful.

When he was first hired by the Oakenshield Company, he started off poor. Young, and in desperate need of money, the job was a blessing to him. Years later, he was proud that he’d climbed his way up the ladder. He’d landed in a position that wasn’t very notable or sought after, but gave him just enough stability to care for his family. 

He wasn’t by any means, rich, wealthy or anything of the sort, but he was happy with what he had. He was thankful for this job and this life—and hopefully, he’d remain in a stable position as long as the Oakenshield Company thrived and prospered. However, with Thorin’s enemy in business (and just about everything else), Thranduil, expanding his own corporations overseas, Bard began to fear for his company’s future. Thranduil and Thorin, both CEO’s of very prosperous businesses ranging from hotels, to casinos and any thing in between, had been rivals since long before Bard had gotten a job. Both ruled the market, but eventually one would be the victor.

OoOoOoOo

“I thought you said you could drive.” Baine spoke, attempting to hide the obvious fear in his voice.

“I _can,_ I just haven’t done so in a while. But there’s no need to sound so worried, just sit back and relax.” Baine’s close friend, Pippin reassured as he clutched on to the steering wheel. Baine, currently sitting in the seat next to him, regretted giving him permission to drive, or the keys altogether. Getting to the store was easy (maybe because Frodo, who sat in the back seat, drove), but Pippin insisted that he drove the car until he got home. There started a series running stop signs, speeding at changing lights, and all but hitting the pedestrians attempting to cross the walk that evening.

Baine thought that when the group had pulled the car into an alley for a “short cut”, there would be no possible way for them to accidentally hit anyone or anything. Well, Baine was wrong. Very wrong.

If Baine had paid more attention, he would have realized that the group didn’t really drive into what they though was an alley, just a narrow road bordered by an abandoned restaurant and a large building. And parked next to that large building, was a very nice, expensive black car. As the group slowly drove down the “alley” way, with their music turned to its loudest and lost in conversation altogether, none of them even noticed the two nicely dressed figured exiting the back of the building and getting into the car.

And when finally they _did_ notice them, it was far too late.

The loud _screech,_ had first brought the boys out of their bubble, as they’d realized the side of their car had made contact with the black car. Baine stared in horror as ugly green paint had ruined the fine black paint of the other automobile, but that was the least of their concern.

It seemed as if the shock of actually hitting something had brought a lot more realism into the situation and Baine was all but ready to get out of the car an apologize. He could see the distraught owner of the vehicle from his seat. Long platinum hair, dressed in a fine suit and overcoat…yes, Baine knew how screwed they’d all be if they didn’t settle this now, and he was quite sure that Frodo would agree with him as well (and maybe Sam, Merry probably not). But Pippin unfortunately had plans of his own.

“…Stop the car…he’s coming over.” Baine spoke, quite calmly for the given situation. “Let me out so I can speak to him, we can get it settled.” At that moment a series of things happened, a series of very _bad_ things. Pippin, seeming to completely ignore Baine’s plea of possible negotiation brought the car in reverse. For the most part, all the boys in the car were screaming at Pippin. Baine was the loudest, telling him to stop, while Merry with probably egging him on. Frodo, distraught as ever also yelled, Sam seemed to understand that his addition to the frenzy wouldn’t fix anything so he’d stopped early on.

But not a sound escaped any of the boy’s lips when they’d heard a “thud”, from the back bumper. Not a scream, nor anything else followed, it was just a thud, and a shake. And from what Baine saw in the rearview mirror, something or _someone_ fell over backwards. A flash of blond hair went spiraling to the ground and Baine feared they’d hit the man in the suit, but much to his dismay he remembered that there were _two_ people in the alley with them. Both looked similar in features, so he only assumed they were related and unfortunately for him, whoever the other person was, currently resided on the ground under their car.

They’d done it. They’d finally done it. Killed a person. 

Baine’s hopes and dreams literally flashed before his eyes as he wondered just how long he’d rot away in prison after this. And to think, it would have been avoided if only _he_ took the wheel, and drove. What a mistake on his part…

“He’s getting up…” The voice, belonging to either one of the other four boys caused Baine’s heart to lift up. Not so much because he was happy that the blond boy was alive (though that was the most important part), moreso, because he was slightly more comforted knowing that the others were actually worried.

“He’s got blood on his head.” Baine spoke, as pale as a ghost. Any more shock and he’d simply vanish.  “The other one is coming towards us.” Frodo, the voice of reason perhaps, finally said. And no doubt, the other suited blond was marching towards the car at a firing speed.

“Okay Pippin for real, stop the car I have to—” Pippin must have put every bit of power into pushing the gas pedal because within seconds, the car was on its way out of the alley. Baine,  was all but shocked. Had they not just nearly killed a man, trying to escape? Was speaking to them worse than actually speeding away?

“Pippin, we need to go back! We need to speak to him!” Baine’s voice nearly cracked in fear.

“Baine’s right. I think things can easily be resolved if we apologize.” Naturally, Frodo agreed with Baine and that automatically gained Sam’s approval, but Merry and Pippin were a different story.

“No one was killed, as far as we’re concerned.” Pippin, clutching the wheel noted. “We even waited for him to get up.”

“Besides,” Merry interjected. “there’s no winning with those types of people. They complain about everything, even just a simply graze. They can fix it, after all, they make more money in ten minutes, then the five us combined will ever make in a life time.”

“We still hit someone.”

“And he stood back up, fine. Let it go Baine. If you turn any more pale from fear, you’ll turn into a ghost. What’s done is done, we’re alive, and they’re alive.”

Baine, knowing that his words would have little to no ground remained silent. He only wondered _how_ badly this would reflect on him, after all, this was his dad’s car.

OoOoOoOoOo

 

Bard should not have spoken too soon when he was done with work, because near seconds later (as he predicted), Alfred entered his cubicle with a stack of papers.

“The Supervisor is going home sick today.” In that usual, kiss up tone, he spoke, already giving Bard a headache.

“And…I assume he wants me to finish up the rest of his paper work. Like he does every day he leaves early.”

“Well, you aren’t paid just to sit around.” Alfred sneered, exiting the cubicle.

“I couldn’t say the same for you…” Bard had muttered before gathering his belongings and shoving the papers into his brief case. After that, he was on his way out, deciding not to take any detours. Too tired and exhausted, he headed straight home. Breaking his casual routine of checking the mail and seeing if there were any missed phone calls, Bard took his seat on the sofa, placing the brief case near him. Closing his eyes, and taking a few deep breaths, he rested himself, allowing all the stress of the day to leave his body. Of course he’d had the other paper work to do, but it was better filling out his supervisor’s reports while having a clear, unstressed conscience.

Yet speaking of stress, the moment he exhaled, the front door bust open, nearly flinging off its hinges. Sitting up, shocked by the noise, he met the eyes of his son, Baine, who had come home earlier than he expected but at the same time, looked extremely distraught.

“Is something wrong?” Was Bard’s first question, putting aside all greetings. He knew that look, that expression of guilt and mischief. He could only imagine what wild story Bard had for him today given the group he hung around wasn’t the most influential, but that was beside the point. Baine still looked as if he’d seen a ghost, not being able to move or formulate any words.

“Baine, what happened?” Bard demanded, this time, his voice becoming louder. He stood, and walked towards his distressed son. “Just tell me. Were you hurt or…”

Baine, taking a few deep breaths, shook his head. “I need to sit.” The first words he spoke sent a chill down Bard’s spine, this could not have been good.

“Well what’s wrong?” Trying to sound more gathered than Baine seemed to fail on Bard’s part as there was obvious tension in his voice. He watched as his son sat down in silence, pale as ever, not even sure what to say.

“Baine—”

“Pippin got into a car wreck…in our car…”

So many questions filled Bard’s mind at that moment. For instance, why was Pippin, _Pippin,_ of all people driving (out of their whole band of misfits, Pippin had to be the most eye brow raising one).

“It wasn’t much of a wreck, it was just a scratch.” Baine’s voice, a lot less shaky, rose in the background, but Bard didn’t respond. He turned quickly on his heel and headed towards the front door, where he exited to the drive way. Within seconds, he was by the car, circling it like an animal would its prey. It was when he saw the large, black streak upon the dark green of his car, he paled.

For a moment though, just a moment, he was thankful that the car wasn’t completely totaled; he and Baine only shared two cars, and between getting to school and work, having one car would make it all the more difficult. But still, this didn’t make the situation okay in the least.

“See, it’s not that bad.”

“Did you sort it out with the owner of the other car?” Bard asked, not even facing his son. “Do I have to meet with him or…”

“Pippin...drove off before anything could be sorted. Da, I tried to stop him I really did!” Baine urged when he saw his father’s shoulder’s stiffen. “But he wouldn’t listen!”

“You drove off Baine? Do you know that’s a crime?! Do you understand just how much trouble you and I can face if this gets out of hand!?” Bard, glaring at his son, was furious, he was fuming.

“Da, we just grazed the car. It’s not like anyone was injured.”

“Baine—”

“We just grazed the car, calm down. I can pay for repairs, but it’s not like we killed a man.” For what seemed like a century, Baine and Bard stared each other down, Baine becoming more and more bold by the second.

“There’s no need to be worried.”

“Baine, I need to have a moment. What you’ve done is…I can’t fathom…I need time to figure out how to handle this.” In silence, he made way back to the living room where he sat down on the sofa. Baine followed him with a frown on his face, becoming more aware that the situation wasn’t as dismissible as he thought it out to be.

“Da…”

“Baine, it doesn’t matter if you didn’t hurt anyone, what happened…” Bard sighed and cast a glance at his son. Not much out of anger, but worry. Things had been hard for both of them. Since the split with his wife and coming divorce, nothing had been easy for him or Bard. Custody battles, visitation rights, etc…etc.., at a point, it was getting to be too much, so Bard had to understand that things weren’t that simple for Baine either, but still.

“Go to your room, I’ll call you down for dinner later and for now, I don’t want you around Pippin or any of the others until I say so.” He cast a look at his troubled son, half expecting him to protest. But in silence, and finally understanding his defeat and wrong doing, Baine made way towards the stair case. “I already ate…I don’t need anything.”

Bard sighed and placed his head in his hands. Things seemed that they’d only get more difficult, but if anything, he was happy that no one was hurt. If there was any hope to the situation, it was that they’d gotten away _before_ the owner of the other car had gotten their license plate numbers, and while that was poor and irresponsible thinking of him, Bard couldn’t really afford to pay for damages (yes, Baine had said he’d had money, but Bard hardly imagined that could cover it)

So he only hoped that this was all over with.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOOo

The next morning, Bard found himself woken by a knock on the front door.

It was a soft, yet urgent knock, which Bard found confusing, given it was a Saturday morning. Naturally, he himself tended to be asleep well past the acceptable hour on weekends. Not because he was a lazy man, but because the stress of the week had taken its toll on him. And just the night before, Bard had stayed up long past midnight organizing and finishing his supervisor’s reports—he deserved to sleep in for that.

But no, this odd knocking suggested otherwise.

Bard, from his desk (the place where he’d actually fallen asleep), yawned and stretched. Sitting back in his chair, he gathered his thoughts and steadied his mind before standing and stretching yet again. With the little burst of energy his popping bones had given him, he slowly made the journey out of his room to the living room. With every step he took, the knocking became louder and more persistent. Curious, Bard wondered who it could have been. For a second or two, he thought that it was Merry or Pippin coming to apologize for the incident yesterday, but that seemed unlikely. So it had to be Frodo, or even Sam. If that was the case, Bard would welcome them with open arms. He always preferred those two of the others.

Yet, the knocking was too fierce and angry to be theirs, so honestly, Bard had no clue.

“Here I come, calm down.” He mentioned, as groggily as his voice would allow. “I’m right here.” Placing a hand on the door knob, he twisted without bothering to ask who it was. “Just give me a second…” If it wasn’t the bright sunlight that brought Bard to his senses, then it was certainly the angelic man standing there in front of him. Within seconds of opening the door, any feeling of sleep completely left when he stared into the bright blue eyes of his visitor.

“Good morning.” His guest spoke, emotionlessly and rather quickly. “I’d bother you with a more casual greeting, but I mean to be quick and frank.” The way the words rolled off of his tongue like venom, caused slight shivers down Bard’s spine. Without putting much of his appearance together, it was no question that he was rich and of high stature. His dark colored suit topped with an even darker overcoat was no more of an indicator that his reflective, leather shoes. Though, while Bard would be lying if he said he’d never seen anyone like this, such an air of authority and grace made it difficult for him to focus.

Aside from the man’s apparel, Bard also took into consideration his appearance. He had very harsh features upon his pale face, from his high cheekbones to his perfectly chiseled nose and eye sockets. Above, were a pair of dark eyebrows only to be contrasted by his lightly colored, almost platinum hair, that fell roughly past his shoulders. If this situation itself didn’t feel so foreboding, Bard would have perhaps equated such an appearance to that of an angel, but by the way the greeting had been delivered, he feared he’d be changing his mind soon.

“Morning.” He nervously responded back. “May I help you with something? Have we met?”

“No, we have not met, and for that I am glad. Believe me when I say, I did not want to trouble myself with the task of finding your residence, but it is something that simply could not be ignored. When a crime is dealt against me of all people, I am quick to get to the bottom of it.”

“What is this about?” The truth was, Bard already knew the answer to his question. He was just in shock.

“Yesterday, nearly an hour after three o’clock, my car was hit another automobile. I tracked the identification numbers on the plate, and it led here—is there a Bard living here? The owner of the car, I must speak with him.”

“Here…I am…he’s me…it’s me…” Feeling the grogginess return, Bard introduced himself, attempting to stay awake. Given the urgency of the situation, he needed too.

“Well then this can be quick. Yesterday, you not only ran into my new car. You also left a very large green gash in the side, and I highly doubt I’ll be able to fix that. In addition, you also hit my son and nearly ran over him before speeding off.”

“What?” Now Bard was certainly awake. “I didn’t…my son…he was in the car…he was…he almost ran over your...?” _Baine almost hit someone?_ He said it was just a graze, nothing more. Good God, Bard needed to have a word with that boy.

“Ahh, so you weren’t behind the wheel. Then I can make this even simpler. In my pocket, I have a bill that I need your son to pay so I can cover repairs. If he doesn’t have the money to own up to what he’s done, then I’ll have to call the authorities now to have him arrested.” The man took the bill from his suit jacket and handed it to Bard, who just stared.

So many questions he wanted to ask, so many things he needed to say, but the only question that escaped his lips was, “And who are you, exactly?”

“My name is Thranduil, CEO of the “Greenleaf & Mirkwood” corporations. You may have heard of me before.”

Bard felt a dry lump form in his throat. “I have.”

Bard nearly passed out; things just got a lot more complicated.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Please tell me what you think!


End file.
